These Flesh Walls
by ThespiansKC
Summary: Sherlock Holmes, at age seventeen, is stuck in Hellingly Asylum for his "freaksih" ability to deduce. The last thing he expects is the unfathomable kindness and love given to him by Dr. John Watson. Eventual Johnlock.
1. Chapter 1

_Held all within these flesh walls_

_Pair of dice and domino_

_Seven fingers and thirteen toes_

_Wind her up and watch her go_

_Spin her out of dust into rock and fire_

_Oh Holy water_

_Throw her to the earth_

_Through the burning air_

_Big bang survivor_

_And now you gotta get it with_

_What youve been given or not._

_And now you gotta get it with what youve been given or not._

_I was born to_

_I was born to..._

Sherlock's eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was white.

He sat up, and surrounding him was more white. White padded walls, floors, and a white ceiling.

Sherlock tried to stand, but an ache in his side stopped him. Lifting up his pajama top, he noticed the bluish bruises lining his torso from his last attempt at escape. He was surprised the idiots who worked at the 'center' managed to catch him every time.

Center. What a ridiculous word. Sherlock knew exactly where his parents, and practically all of London, had placed him.

He was, at the age of seventeen, in an asylum. He was locked up and reviled as a freak because he knew things others didn't. Because he could, to use his brother Mycroft's word, deduce.

Sherlock heard a sharp zap and a scream. He cringed; that was one thing he was grateful for: they couldn't use shock treatments on him.

Not that his parents weren't all for it. In the end, it was Mycroft who defended him from that.

"You can't shock his talents out of him." He protested to their parents and the asylum director.

"Talents?" His father roared with a cruel laugh. "It's not a talent, it's an unnatural ability."

"It's not unnatural. It's part of who he is." Mycroft shot back.

"He's a freak." His father shouted.

Sherlock cringed again. He didn't know that it was one of many times he would be called a freak. Everywhere he turned, it was the same title: Freak.

It was what he was. But he didn't try to be a freak. It just happened.

Sherlock sighed. That was when the (you guessed it, white) door to his room opened.

A rather short man with soft blonde hair and kind blue eyes stepped into the room.

Sherlock deduced without even meaning to.

oOo

"You've got a new one to patch up." Sarah told John when he arrived at the center that morning. "It's the newer one. Holmes, Sherlock Holmes."

John nodded, trying to seem indifferent.

He wasn't indifferent. He was dreading the look in the eyes of his newest "patient."

At first, John Watson had been proud of his job at the Hellingly Asylum. It paid well, and it was a good use of his recently earned skills as a doctor.

Then he realized what he had gotten himself into. He hated his work, he hated looking into the dead, helpless-looking eyes of his patients. He hated stitching them back up, only to hear them scream in pain from wounds he couldn't heal.

John began to walk to Sherlock's room. (Room 221.) He tried to ignore the screams and sobs.

He was not prepared at all for what Sherlock Holmes had in store for him.

oOo

"I'm Dr. Watson." John said kindly.

Sherlock tried to seem uninterested, but there was something about this Dr. Watson that drew him in. Since his imprisonment, nothing drew Sherlock in.

"And you're Sherlock, aren't you?" He asked, his eyes on the gash on Sherlock's forehead.

Sherlock nodded.

"Okay...well, you're going to need stitches, that's for sure." John mused.

Sherlock's eyes were not lifeless. They were vibrant and full of wisdom. The mixture of colors that filled his irises were impeccably breathtaking. John was baffled.

"How's your sister?" Sherlock asked.

"What?" John asked as he began cleaning Sherlock's wound.

"Your sister, your older sister, who is slightly amused that you took a job at the local nuthouse." A smile was playing with his soft lips.

"How did you know that?" John asked.

Sherlock listed the (fairly obvious) reason.

"And...you've just recently became a bonafide doctor, congratulations, by the way. You always have jam with breakfast, but today you ran out, and you were rather unhappy about that. Am I wrong?" Sherlock asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No, not at all." John breathed, his eyes wide in wonder.

"Did I do something?" Sherlock asked, fingering the threads holding his skin together.

"No, that...that was amazing!" John said, a smile breaking through his calm expression.

"That's not what most people say."

"What do most people say?"

"Shut up before you end up in the critical ward, you freak." Sherlock recited.

"Most people are wrong." John said decidedly. "That was absolutely amazing."

Sherlock smiled, actually smiled.

"I should go." John said reluctantly.

Sherlock's smile faded. "Fine." He said coldly. "Good day to you."

John, with an apologetic look, bade him farewell.

Sherlock had to see John again, he just had to. He needed that feeling of life to return to him. He needed to see that smile again.

Which meant he would have to be injured again.

A ghost of a smile crossed Sherlock's lips.

_Whatever it takes._ He told himself. _Whatever it takes._

**So, that was the first chapter!**

**Before I go on begging for reviews, I would like to say thank you to all of you for reading this. Thank you for not throwing your computer away in disgust and anger.**

**So, I hope you all enjoyed that. I've had the idea bouncing around in my mind for a while, and I decided to write it.**

**And yes, Johnlock is inevitable.**

**Hellingly Asylum is a closed asylum in England. It was closed in the 1900s. It was infamous for its abuse towards patients, untested treatments, haunting living conditions and, of course, shock treatments.**

**According to Wikipedia, anyway.**

**And what does my always-crazy mind decide to do with a frightening closed asylum?**

**Write a Johnlock fic.**

**And, for all of you who may or may not have extensive Hellingly knowledge:**

**First off, congratulations on having a very strong stomach, because I can't do too much Hellingly research before I start feeling like I'm going to throw up. And secondly, I know my writing doesn't flawlessly follow life at Hellingly in the early 1900's. But sometimes the needs of the plot outweigh the needs of the logic. As writers, we all know that.**

**And, yes: The song at the beginning: _Born To_, by: Jesca Hoop.**

**Please, please, please review this. Every time someone reviews, John goes back to visit Sherlock. That HAS to motivate you.**

**I promise to update soon!**

**Love, (I'll think of something more creative to sign off with later.)**

**Carlie**


	2. Chapter 2

_Wisdom tells me to turn away_  
_Broken once, it's all the same_

_My arms will grow_  
_Chest expanding_

_Of all the boys you could have landed_  
_Why'd it have to be me?_

_You...can't take my eyes off of you_  
_You...can't take my eyes off of you..._

Three days.

Three visits to Sherlock. _How_ did he manage to injure himself in a padded cell?

But John wasn't complaining. He (call him crazy) enjoyed talking to Sherlock. Did the asylum have any effect on the young man?

And furthermore, why was he in an asylum? He showed no signs of instantly. He was, of course, slightly odd, but most interesting people were.

"Sherlock-" John said, entering his cell.

"Ah, Dr. Watson." Sherlock said, smiling despite the blood on his face.

"You tore out the stitches?" John asked. Maybe Sherlock was insane. "Why?"

"Do you normally ask this many questions?" Sherlock asked.

"No, it's just...you seem far to intelligent to do such a thing."

"Oh, well."

"Sherlock, you're not...intentionally harming yourself, are you?"

"It's for the greater good."

Maybe Sherlock _was_ insane.

"What greater good?"

"It..." Sherlock looked down, his pale face a tinted a light pink.

"What, Sherlock?"

"It brings you back..."

John smiled, genuinely touched. "Sherlock..."

"Go ahead...tell the director and have me sent to the critical ward."

Sherlock said coldly. John could have sworn there were tears in his eyes.

"Sherlock, I won't tell anyone, you won't be sent to the critical ward."

Sherlock said nothing.

"But I'll keep coming to see you...if you want me to."

"You will?" Sherlock asked, a youthful hope in his brilliant eyes.

"Of course I will..."

"That's...that's very...um, good. That thing you offered to do, it was good."

John laughed. "So, I should probably patch you up now..."

"Be my guest." Sherlock said.

The two talked for what seemed like only seconds, but in reality was hours.

"I have to go, Sherlock." John said gently.

"Oh..." Sherlock's eyes darkened. "Alright."

"Don't feel sad. I'll be back tomorrow."

"It's boring without you." Sherlock complained.

"What can I do to make it less boring?"

Sherlock thought for a moment. "I used to play the violin." He requested tentatively.

"The violin...I'll see what I can do." John said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

oOo

"He's made a little friend..." The cold voice said cruelly. "How sweet." He turned and smiled at his partner. "We can't let that happen, can we, Sebastian?" He asked.

"Of course not." Sebastian replied, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. "It's remarkable...I went to school with the freak. He could look at you and tell you your entire life story. We all hated him."

"Don't hate people for being smart, darling. Hate them for being stupid."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Of course I do, darling. I'm Jim Moriarity. I always have a plan."

oOo

John was stopped on his way to the asylum the next morning. An expensive looking black automobile drove up next to him. A young woman with dark hair and brown eyes stepped out.

"Get in the car, Dr. Watson." She said. "My boss would like to talk to you. He would make some kind of threat, but he knows your position is quite clear."

John got into the car.

"What's your name?" He asked the woman.

"Um...Anthea." She answered.

"Is that your real name?" John asked doubtfully.

"No." 'Anthea' answered.

John decided to stop asking questions.

He was driven to a remote location on the outskirts of the city where he lived. (Hellingly was located far away from any other civilization.) John was led inside a run-down looking building.

In the center of the room stood a man leaning against an umbrella. He had an air about him that said that he had power. Lots of power.

"Ah, Dr. Watson..." He said. "How are you? Have your night terrors improved?"

Nobody was supposed to know about the nightmares. He hadn't told anyone, no one had to know. Most of them featured an all-too-real monster. His dear father towered over him, a belt held in his hand. John shuddered internally.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"It's come to my attention that you have become friends with Sherlock Holmes."

"Why is that any of your concern?"

"I'm simply a concerned party who thought it would be necessary to warn you."

"About?"

"He's in an asylum. I don't think you should be putting down any roots with him, don't you agree?"

"Who the hell are you, why the hell are you talking to me-"

"It's to warn you, Dr. Watson. Sherlock Holmes is not be the first person most people would trust. But either way..." He handed John a violin case. "Take this to him."

**What? There's MORMOR in this fic?**

**Yes there is. No, I'm not sorry. MorMor is the best.**

**Also, MYCROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOFT. I'm sorry, but Mycroft is my favorite supporting character in the world. **

**An-y-way...**

**Thank you for all of your reviews and follows! I can't believe this fic has gotten so much feedback so soon!**

**So, my Spring Break ends today:( And, instead of updating my OTHER Sherlock fic that hasn't been updated in over a week, I decide to update THIS fic that was updated like, thirty seconds ago.**

**Way to prioritize, Carlie.**

**JUSTIFICATION: I'm in that OH MY GOSH IT'S A NEW FIC asdlkasjhflkasd stage where you CAN'T STOP WRITING OMIGOSH and the ideas just come to you and the characters start SPEAKING and you just HAVE TO WRITE.**

**Yes, my author's notes will always be like this.**

**Always.**

**So, the song at the beginning is called Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You by: Cary Brothers. It's such a bittersweet song, and one of those songs that you have to listen to at least forty times in a row. You will be very emotionally unstable afterwards.**

**But, to be fair, we're part of the Sherlock fandom. I can't remember the last time I was emotionally stable, and I think I speak for most of the fandom when I say that.**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW AND TELL YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT THIS SLIGHTLY NON-TERRIBLE FIC CALLED THESE FLESH WALLS WRITTEN BY THIS GIRL NAMED CARLY WHO I'M PRETTY SURE IS INSANE BECAUSE MOST OF HER AUTHOR'S NOTE IS IN CAPS.**

**Love is a Fragile Word,**

**ThespiansKC**


	3. Chapter 3

_And I am feeling so small_  
_It was over my head_  
_I know nothing at all_

_And I will stumble and fall_  
_I'm still learning to love_  
_Just starting to crawl_

_Say something, I'm giving up on you_  
_I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you_  
_Anywhere I would've followed you_  
_Say something, I'm giving up on you_

"You managed to get a violin?" Sherlock asked, fiddling with the tuning pegs of the instrument.

"It was luck, most of it." John admitted.

Sherlock said nothing and started to play.

The melody was so unbelievably bittersweet, so undeniably beautiful, as if every pain held within Sherlock's brilliant mind were being displayed in the music. It was like seeing the bright red leaves of Autumn; so bright and beautiful before Winter wrapped the world in its cold, gentle embrace.

"Doctor, are you alright?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, I'm...I'm fine." John said quickly, realizing that there were tears in his eyes. "That was absolutely...my God, Sherlock...you have a gift."

Sherlock smiled sadly. "That's very kind of you."

"Sherlock, what's wrong?"

"Just thinking about what my life would be like if I weren't...the way I am. Abnormal, I mean."

"Sherlock, you're not abnormal-"

"I'm in a nuthouse, remember? I'm a freak."

"Sherlock, you're not a freak."

"How do you know that?"

"Because there's nothing wrong with you!"

Sherlock laughed. "You're saying that to the man in the padded cell? You must see the irony, Doctor."

"Look, I don't know why you're in here-"

"Would you like to know why I'm here?" Sherlock asked. "I was three years of age. Two of my parents' friends were at our home for dinner and I was the only one who saw that both of them were extremely unfaithful in their marriage. Well, Mycroft knew, but he knew better than to say anything."

"Sherlock-"

"Age five, my tutor stalks out of the house in a rage because I ask too many questions and know too many answers. Age six-"

"Look, I don't see what you've done wrong. You just know things..."

"It's unnatural. It's a freakish ability that makes me an outcast."

"You're not a freak." John repeated. "You're just different."

"Everyone under this roof is different, John. And look where it's gotten them."

John fell silent for a moment. "I understand, Sherlock."

"No, you don't. You're normal."

"Sherlock, what do you think makes a person normal?"

"People who see things without knowing things." Sherlock answered, as if he had given the question much thought.

"But Sherlock, you have a gift. It's not something to be ashamed of."

"That gift landed me in an asylum!" Sherlock fired at him.

"I know, Sherlock...but..."

"But what, Doctor?"

"Call me John, alright?" John said, for a reason he couldn't place.

"Why?"

"Because friends shouldn't call each other by their professional titles." John said.

Sherlock looked up, his brilliant eyes looking regretful.

"John?" The word sounded almost natural sliding off of his tongue, like he had been calling this doctor the wrong thing for his entire life. Was he born to say that name? "John, I-"

"Please don't worry about it." John said, his hand covering most of his face.

"John?" Sherlock asked tentatively.

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"Thank you." He said.

John smiled. "It was my pleasure."

What was wrong with him? He had just forged an unbreakable bond with an insane man. What was it about Sherlock, with his dark curls, shining eyes and tortured mind that made John weak in the knees.

The next few hours were spent listening to Sherlock play his violin. With every note, John felt his heart growing.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sherlock." John said, brushing a stray curl from Sherlock's pale, defined face.

"I'll see you then." Sherlock agreed.

John left. Sherlock sighed and held the violin over his heart.

Seconds later, two employees entered the room.

"Come with us." They said, their voices rough and merciless.

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

"New treatment." Was their answer.

Sherlock braced himself for the worst.

**We'll figure out what "new treatment" is next time. And there will be AAAAAAAANNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGSSSSSST. So much angst. **

**So, to our new followers, welcome to the insane world of These Flesh Walls. I hope you're enjoying yourselves so far!**

**BECAUSE IT'S ABOUT TO GET CRAZY. **

**Song Credit: A song that EVERYBODY knows:**

**Say Something by: A Great Big World.**

**What can I say? It's a good song. Emotionally rendering, but a good song. **

**Also, I have received requests for Mystrade. I'll see what I can do about that. (I'm a hopeless Mystrade shipper myself.)**

**So, yes, this chapter is very short. But I wanted to grant you something non-painful before the heartbreaking chapter that will follow the one you just read. Who's excited?**

**So, I should explain my sign-off:**

**_Love is a Fragile Word_**

**That, my friends, is a line from Iron and Wine's "My Lady's House." The entire song is so wonderful, but that line is the best part, in my opinion. If you are unfamiliar with Iron and Wine, I strongly recommend that you listen to their stuff. It's fantastic.**

**THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL OF YOUR REVIEWS! I can't tell you how much those mean to me!**

**Also, if you have a song that you think would be appropriate for TFW, please tell me in reviews, or feel free to PM me. **

**I love you all so much! **

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Love is a Fragile Word,**

**ThespiansKC**


	4. Chapter 4

_I refuse_  
_I refuse _  
_To take the pain_  
_From the moon_  
_Cold reflections of the sun_

_I recall_  
_I recall_  
_The linking light_  
_In your eyes_  
_In your eyes..._

When John returned to Sherlock the next day, he was sitting in the corner, curled up in the fetal position and shaking.

"Sherlock..." John breathed, falling to his knees beside him. "Dear lord, Sherlock, what's wrong?"

"New t-treatment..." Sherlock managed to say through chattering teeth. He could still feel the electricity in his veins. He was shivering uncontrollably and on the verge of tears.

"Oh, Sherlock..." John sighed, draping his jacket around Sherlock's shaking shoulders. Sherlock continued shivering. John, without hesitation, held him in his arms, wondering what they had done to him.

Sherlock, though comforted by John's embrace, continued shaking. He was shattered, his very will to exist reduced into nothing.

He truly was a freak. If there was ever any doubt about that, there no longer was.

The realization sent all of his emotional awareness far away. Sherlock snapped like a twig and began to weep.

"Oh, Sherlock..." John repeated, holding him closer. Sherlock continued sobbing into his chest.

"You're safe now, I'll keep you safe. I promise, Sherlock, they can't hurt you..."

"Clearly they c-can do whatever th-they want t-to me..." Sherlock sobbed.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." John muttered.

Sherlock continued crying in John's arms. Eventually, tears no longer came and he laid there in John's embrace. His even, steady breathing told John that he had fallen asleep.

John looked down at Sherlock's pale face, relaxed and tear-stained. Something from deep down inside of him seemed to wake. A fire was lit in the pit of his stomach and began to spread rapidly.

John lay awake that night, remembering Sherlock shivering in his arms. Whatever his 'new treatment' was, John wouldn't let it go on.

With a sigh, John sat up. Emotions ran through his mind; anger, frustration, compassion, love...

Love. An intense, burning, undying, unconditional love for Sherlock Holmes.

Would Sherlock love him back? Was he capable of doing such things?

There was only one way to find out.

oOo

Sherlock wiped a few tears from his eyes, fighting the urge to sob. If he was going to sob, he would sob into John's shoulder. How he wished John were there. He wanted to be with the man he loved.

Yes, he was deeply in love with Dr. John Watson. He couldn't continue without him.

Nobody came to continue the shock treatment any time. That gave Sherlock the opportunity to count the hours until John came.

**FEELS. **

**Oh, my gosh, guys, the song at the beginning is so perfect for this chapter. (Out of Air by: Broken Twin.) If you're ever in the mood for an extreme emotional upheaval, read this chapter while listening to that song.**

**Or, if you're feeling really daring, go ahead and listen to it while rereading Alone on the Water. (That can also be used as torture, now that I think about it.)**

**Anyway, I won't lie, I'm really looking forward to seeing your reviews for this chapter. I'm rather proud of it, which is unbelievably rare. **

**So, I auditioned for my school's mini-musical today. And, (this is also unbelievably rare) I'm feeling good about my audition! And tomorrow, we GET TO DO THE SINGING AUDITIONS!**

**Yeah, my choir teacher asked us to rate how excited/comfortable we were with singing in public on a scale of 1 to 5. I put 1,000. (I'm sorry if that sounds pompous. I swear it wasn't intentional!) **

**And 1,000 was a truthful answer; I've been in theater for three years, and it's true what they say: Performance anxiety does get less intense as you perform more and more. I doubt it will ever go away, though.**

**So, to all you new followers out there, welcome to These Flesh Walls! I hope you enjoy this angsty Johnlock-filled fic. **

**Please, please, PLEASE review!**

**Love is a Fragile Word,**

**ThespiansKC**


	5. Chapter 5

_If I lay here_  
_If I just lay here_  
_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

_Forget what we're told_  
_Before we get too old_  
_Show me a garden that's bursting into life_

_Let's waste time_  
_Chasing cars_  
_Around our heads_

_I need your grace_  
_To remind me_  
_To find my own_

_If I lay here_  
_If I just lay here_  
_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

"Hello, John." Sherlock said shyly when he came that morning.

"Sherlock, we have to talk..." He said.

"I agree."

"Look, I know I've only known you for a few days, but...I feel like there's something-"

"I'm in love with you." Sherlock blurted out.

"Excuse me?" John asked. "Sherlock,"

"Oh, God, what have I done..." Sherlock mumbled.

"No, Sherlock...I feel the same way. I love you, too."

"What...I, John-"

"Sherlock Holmes, I am absolutely in love with you."

"John, do you mean that?"

"Of course I do, look, I..."

Slowly, John brought Sherlock's lips to his own.

Sherlock gasped and leaned into John, breathing deeply, savoring the kiss. Throughout his entire childhood, he had been a sick freak who no one would come near. And John was suddenly a part of his life, wrapping him in the love he never knew he wanted.

"I love you so much..." Sherlock sighed when his lips left John's.

"I'll always love you." John promised. "Always."

Tears were shining in Sherlock's eyes.

"Love, are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm...I'm absolutely fine. I'm happy..."

"I'm happy too, my love."

oOo

"Oh, they're happy together..." Moriarity drawled, running his fingers through Sebastian's dark hair.

"That must have been his first kiss." Sebastian mused.

"And, quite possibly, his last."

oOo

Sherlock sighed contentedly, his head rested against John's shoulder.

"John, I'd like to talk to you about...something."

"Go on, love."

"My parents sent me here." He said.

"What?"

"I knew I was always different, but I didn't know that...that they'd send me here. We lived in a small city, practically everyone wanted me gone...because I was a freak."

"Sherlock, look at me..." John said. Sherlock's eyes met his. "You're not a freak. Your amazing gift makes you who you are. You're not Sherlock Holmes just because you can...deduce. Every little thing about you makes you who you are. Your gift doesn't define you."

Sherlock moved closer to John, resting his head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"You don't belong here." John murmured.

"I don't belong with you?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that I was born to tell you that I loved you. We belong together, sweetheart. You don't belong here, in this...place."

"What are you trying to say?"

"We're going to leave, Sherlock. I'm going to free you."

Sherlock smiled as John placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"What will we do? Where will we go?"

"We'll go wherever we need to."

"Together?"

"If that's what you want."

"Of course it's what I want."

"Then we'll go wherever we need to go...together."

Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.

Together.

**ALL THE JOHNLOCK FLUFF!**

**Well, that was...fluffy. Seriously, that might be the fluffiest thing I have ever written. Ever.**

**However, there is something I would like to speak to all of you about:**

**Is anyone interested in drawing CoverArt for this fic? If you are, my Tumblr is carlycake24 (yeah, I should change my URL) and my Instagram is _carly_quinn_ . **

**Yeah, they call them "Social Networking sites" but when you're in a fandom, you use the Social Networking world for fandoms. Let's face it.**

**Thank you for all of your reviews for the last chapter! You all seemed to REALLY hate "new treatment." **

**Then the next chapter is going to take your hearts and destroy them. Oops.**

**Anyway, song credit: Chasing Cars, by: Snow Patrol. Just one of the many songs that I listen to when I am slowly losing my sanity/faith in humanity. It's great fun.**

**Please, please, PLEASE review!**

**I LOVE YOU ALL.**

**Love is a Fragile Word,**

**ThespiansKC**


	6. Chapter 6

_Paper doll silhouettes,_  
_Fingertips on window glass,_  
_The street's asleep, so I breathe you in deep/_

_The tragedies of chemistry,_  
_People dream of what you and me have found effortlessly._

_You're the reason I come home_  
_You're the reason I come home, my love..._  
_You're the reason that when everything I know falls apart,_  
_You're the reason I come home._

Someone stood on John Watson's doorstep that evening. It was the same man who had given him the violin, along with "Anthea."

"Dr. Watson, my name is Mycroft Holmes. I'm Sherlock's older brother."

John's eyes widened. "He never...I mean-"

"He's never told you that he had a brother?"

"No, he said something about a Mycroft, but-"

"That was me, end of small talk. There are more pressing matters at hand. There is man named Jim Moriarity. He's the most intelligent, and most dangerous man in the world. He can bring down empires if the mood strikes him. He is convinced that there is only one man who can take that power from him. That man is Sherlock Holmes."

"Oh..."

"This isn't something I'm proud of, Dr. Watson. But after my brother was nearly killed at the age of sixteen because of Moriarity, I knew something had to be done. A plan was made with my parents, with Hellingly's director. Sherlock would be placed in Hellingly until Moriarity was no longer a threat."

"You stuck your brother in an asylum?"

"It was the only way to keep him alive. Moriarity got far too close to him once, and I will not let that happen again."

"He thinks he's a freak, some kind of sick mistake because of you! Have you heard about his new treatment?"

"I'm the reason the new treatment stopped. But that is beside the point. You're making an escape plan, aren't you?"

"That's none of your-"

"I'm not trying to stop you. I just want you to promise that you'll keep him safe."

"I-"

"Do I have your word?"

"Yes, of course I'll protect him."

"Good. Tomorrow, there will be no employees at Hellingly except for you. The front door will be unlocked. There will be a car waiting outside for you to take you wherever you need to go."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, Dr. Watson. Tonight you will free Sherlock Holmes, and I will rest easily knowing that he is under the best protection offered. Also...when he was younger, the two of us discussed using his talents for detective work. I happen to have a connection with the leader of London's police force."

"Connection?"

"They're currently living together." Anthea informed him.

"Goodbye, Dr. Watson. Remember, tomorrow night.

"Tomorrow night..."

oOo

"I love...you...so...much..." Sherlock muttered, moving closer to John.

John ran his fingers through Sherlock's dark curls. "I love you, too."

Sherlock sighed contentedly.

"Sherlock, love, I have something to tell you..."

"Oh...go on."

"Tonight, you're going to be free."

"What? John, how-"

"Your brother is giving us some help."

Sherlock remained expressionless. "Alright."

"Are you okay with that?"

"No, Mycroft and I are rather close, but...we can't be."

"Why is that?"

"His work is far too important for him to care about anyone."

"Oh..." John sighed.

"Thank you, John." Sherlock said. "For everything. If there's ever anything I can do for you in return-"

"Sherlock, if you are free, if you and I can live in safe happiness for the rest of our lives, I will be completely content."

A shining, diamond-shaped tear fell from Sherlock's incredible eyes.

"Are you alright, love?" John asked.

"Yes, I'm...I'm just...I love you so much."

John placed several gentle kisses on his love's pale face. "I love you, too. You're my world."

"Do you mean that?"

"Sherlock Holmes, you are my sun and my stars. You are the air that I breathe, the fire that keeps me warm, my absolute everything. You are my every hope, dream, and fear. I am absolutely, undoubtedly, and unconditionally in love with you."

"Unconditionally?"

"Unconditionally."

"But I'm...John..."

"What, my love?"

"I'm...I'm me."

"Yes, and thank God you're you. Because that is the man that I fell completely in love with."

John held Sherlock tighter and kissed his forehead, knowing that tomorrow night, they would be released from the flesh walls contained the love of his life.

**Aww...**

**So, I hope you all enjoyed that! Especially the HOLY CRAP MYCROFT PUT SHERLOCK IN HELLINGLY HOLY NUTELLA WAFFLES (that is a reference to my other Sherlock fic) HOW COULD HE DO THAT ALSO MYYYYYYYYYYSSSSSTRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAADE?!**

**Sorry, I've had a stressful few days. Post Audition anxiety, you know.**

**Maybe you could review to mute the anxiety? **

**Anyway, I hope you all have had a good weekend. I seriously love all of you so much it's not even funny.**

**Song Credit: You're The Reason I Come Home by: Ron Pope. Seriously one of the best love songs in the world. (I mean, seriously, Ron Pope is EVERYWHERE in my writing, along with Iron and Wine...dang it, Carlie, you're fangirling again.)**

**Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter! And welcome, new readers! I hope you're enjoying your stay in These Flesh Walls!**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**

**I love you all.**

**Love is A Fragile Word,**

**ThespiansKC**


	7. Chapter 7

_I will never let you fall _  
_I'll stand up with you forever_  
_I'll be there for you through it all (through it all)_  
_Even if saving you sends me to heaven_

_Cuz you're my, you're my, my, my true love, my whole heart_  
_Please don't throw that away_  
_Cuz I'm here for you_  
_Please don't walk away_

Sherlock took John's hand as he led him out of his cell. It was the first time he had been out of that room in almost a year.

"Are you ready?" John whispered, ready to push the doors out of Hellingly open.

"Yes." Sherlock breathed, his heart pounding with excitement.

John opened the door, and the two stepped out of Hellingly Asylum.

Sherlock took a deep breath, savoring the feel of the night wind against his pale face, he was free-

"Oh, no you don't!" A cruel voice screamed. Sherlock felt a hand grasp his hair, he was pulled away from John.

"Sherlock!" John cried.

"You won't..." A tall man with dark hair and eyes pulled John from Sherlock and stood between them.

James Moriarity and Sebastian Moran had cornered Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

Moriarity dragged Sherlock back inside Hellingly.

"Good luck, darling!" Sebastian called. "You destroy that freak!"

Rage exploded from John, giving him the power to pull Sebastian into a headlock.

"He's...not...a...freak." John growled. Sebastian winced. "And we're going after him."

oOo

"Did you honestly think you could outsmart me? Did you really think you could escape the most powerful man on the planet?" Moriarity spat at Sherlock as he dragged him down the narrow hall.

"John!" Sherlock yelled desperately.

"He's not coming for you, freak. He's run off, you mean nothing to him. Don't you see that? He doesn't care about you."

"No!" Sherlock cried. "No, you're a liar-"

"No, I'm your savior. I'm saving you from heartbreak. You're going to the Critical Ward-" he shoved Sherlock into a cell that was hardly large enough for one man to stand up in. "And staying there. You will never see John Watson again."

"No! No, I'd rather die!" Sherlock screamed.

An evil grin spread across Moriarity's face.

"Fine then. If it's death that you want, then death you shall have."

He pulled Sherlock from the cell, shoved a cold crown of metal over his curls and prepared to flip the switch that would send Sherlock towards an excruciatingly painful death.

"Don't...you...dare."

John Watson's voice rang out in the darkened room, with Sebastian.

"If you do anything to him, I swear to God, I will strangle your boyfriend where he stands." John spat.

"Jim, my darling..." Sebastian whimpered.

"Let him go." John repeated.

Moriarity looked at Sherlock, then at Sebastian. Without a trace of emotion, he threw Sherlock towards John.

oOo

"Oh, Sherlock..." John murmured once they were in the safe haven of the car. "Sherlock, sweetheart..." His love was shaking uncontrollably, tears were streaming down his beautiful face.

"He...he said I was...n-nothing to you. That you didn't love me."

"Sherlock, I love you. I will always love you."

Sherlock continued shaking. John wrapped his arms around him, kissing his face gently.

"John?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Hold me."

"Of course."

"Until I fall asleep?"

"Until I take my final breath."

**Please don't despair, my darlings. There will be one final chapter before we say goodbye to These Flesh Walls.**

**Song Credit: Your Guardian Angel by: The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.**

**PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Love is a Fragile Word,**

**ThespiansKC**


End file.
